Like the Rainwater
by Blue Skies Rusty
Summary: This was the moment in which he had found and lost the love of his life... Just a short Tristan centric one shot set before the movie Enjoy.


**A/N: **Just a little something I came up with to go with today's weather. My first KA-related anything so be gentle and please forgive me for butchering Tristan's character. I'm usually partial to Gawain anyway ; )

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Tristan or anything related to the movie. In fact, I only own my clothes and my cat so sueing me would be pointless.

_**Like the Rainwater**_

The rain fell from the clouded sky in large drops, bathing the Earth and softening the ground. The cold drops soaked his horse's gray and white fur and washed the grime from his skin. The heavy rain had long since drenched his scruffy, dark hair and had been absorbed into his many braids, making it cling to his face like an infant to its mother. It even gathered in his goatee, dripping off onto his chest. His horse's hooves made a small splash with each leisurely step. Muddy drops of water would jump up, tainting its beautiful dappled coat.

Though it hindered tracking, Tristan still enjoyed the rain. He had relaxed somewhat, allowing his horse to lead the way as his eyes slowly swept over the scenery. They were traveling down a wide, well-trodden road. The tall trees of the forest reaching up to the cloudy sky on either side. While the wildlife hid, the heavy rain, which seemed to be a trademark of the island, beat steadily upon the ground while another rhythm was played out by the drops that hit the leaves of the trees. It was, in a word, peaceful.

A single noise, separate from the beat of the rain and the muffled claps of his horse's hooves, caught Tristan's attention. It came from somewhere off the left of the path, further into the thick forest. It was a sound he recognized immediately. A noise he had memorized and knew by heart.

With a gentle pull on the reigns, he guided his mare away from the road and into the woods. As he did, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly with a smile. Several times after, he had heard the noise and it didn't take him long to find the source.

Through the trees he could see a small clearing and he halted his horse. Tristan dismounted and moved toward the small glade again. He came out between two trees and took in the sight before him. A small smile played across his lips and he leaned against the nearest tree, observing.

In the middle of the glade, a young Woad woman danced. The large raindrops fell on her, making the blue paint run and revealing pale skin. Her dark, wavy hair was wet and heavy. Every time she spun around, water droplets would fly of the ends of her hair, making small circles around her. As she danced, laughing merrily, she was blissfully unaware of Tristan's presence.

Finally her dance ended and she fell back, landing in mud and moss with her arms out at her sides. She was grinning up at the gray sky, her chest heaving, and the rain splattering her body.

Stepping forward, Tristan began to clap slowly. This caught her attention and she finally looked up, startled. When she saw him, the woman's face lit up. Her brilliant green eyes seemed to sparkle and his heart skipped a beat. Tristan was reminded of the first time he had met this Woad woman.

Though it had been six months ago, he could recall it as if it had only just happened. He had been riding with his fellow knights when he had felt they were being watched. His sharp, dark eyes had darted up into the trees where he spotted her, half hidden amongst the branches. Her green eyes stood out against the blue paint and danced with merriment and curiosity as she returned his gaze. At that moment he knew three things about her; she was a Woad; she meant them no harm; and he wanted to know more.

After that he had spotted her time and time again, sitting passively in trees, watching them with sort of childish wonderment. He always looked up to her and she always met his gaze. After three months, during a heavy rain, he had been scouting and stumbled across her laughing as she twirled around and around.

Tristan, the least emotional of the knights, had fallen in love in that moment.

Since then, the two had met in secret, always during a heavy rain, where they would simply enjoy each other's company. He learned her name was Mave and that none of her people knew she had been sneaking off to watch the knights. She had been told stories of them, how they slaughtered Woads without mercy. Some had even said they were half-gods.

"I see naught but men," she had said to him as they lounged under the shelter of a large tree. And she had been right. They were just men, doing what they needed for their freedom. Somehow, she understood that. She understood _him_.

Now, Tristan stood close to the edge of the glade while Mave continued to lay in the mud. He had stopped his soft clapping and his hands were at his sides, the rain dripping off his fingers and falling to the ground.

"Hello, my friend," she said, still smiling at him.

Friend. The word was like a blade to his heart. She thought of them as friends but he wanted more. So much more. "Hello," he replied softly, even as he noticed that her smile didn't seem quite the same as the one he had etched into his memory. Looking back to her eyes, he saw that there was a trace of sadness somewhere behind the sparkle.

"Come." Mave laid back on the ground and patted the muddy patch of moss beside her. "Join me."

Tristan obliged without hesitation. He stretched his long limbs out on the ground and laid back, looking up at the sky. The rain continued to splatter in large drops on his face and body. He could feel the cold beginning to seep through his skin and knew he would probably catch a cold if he didn't get back to the fort soon. He didn't care though, it had been weeks since her had last seen her and she was his therapy, his escape from the Romans and his duty. Mave was like a shot of freedom when he couldn't find it anywhere else.

They were both quiet for a long time, neither willing to break the spell. The rain continued to play its beat in the silent forest. This was how they spent most of their time together. And that was how they both liked it.

Finally, Tristan sat up. He had come to the abrupt decision to act on impulse, something he never did. Impulses could be deadly, he was too cautious for something as foolish an impulse. Or so he thought. "You know I love you." It was an odd combination of a question and a statement.

For a long time, Mave's green eyes just stared up at him. After what seemed like eternity, but was really only a minute, Tristan silently got to his feet. Turning his back on her, he walked across the glade to where his horse was now lazily grazing on the wet grass. Despite the cold, his face was burning hot and he hated himself for it. He mentally berated himself for having been so rash.

"I love you, too." The words made him freeze. He became stone as he stood, waiting for her to say more.

There was a squelching noise and he knew she was getting up off the ground. He didn't hear her come up behind him, though, so the feather light touch surprised him. He tensed as she gently laid her warm hand on his shoulder, her warmth spreading through his body.

"Tristan…" His name was a pleading whisper on her lips and he was once again surprised when his stomach tightened into a knot and his heart seemed to stop.

"I wanted to tell you," Mave said, her voice quiet, "that my people are moving north for the coming warm weather." He heard take a deep, shuddering breath. "I won't be returning." Again, his stomach turned into a tight ball and he felt a wave of nausea accompany his lightheadedness.

"They say there are too many distractions for me here and I'm not learning anything from my training." The warmth left him, her hand falling from his shoulder. "This will be the last time we can see each other." She paused. "Farewell, Tristan."

Tristan turned to face her, just as she was about to turn and leave. She stopped and looked back at him. For a few long minutes, they stood, staring at each other as the rain ran down their faces.. Slowly, Mave moved forward and Tristan was quick to respond.

They embraced, clinging to each other desperately, as if they would die if they let go. Tristan cradled her head against his shoulder, while squeezing his eyes shut. He relished the feeling of her warm body pressed against his.

"We could have never been together anyway," he breathed with dismay. He knew she understood his meaning. A knight and a Woad? Together? It was laughable.

"At least we will always have this moment." Her words were soft and her breath hot against his neck.

Keeping his eyes closed tight, Tristan rested his chin atop her head. He concentrated on the sound of the rain falling around and on them, still beating steadily as the large drops gently splattered on their bodies. He breathed in deeply, catching the damp earthy smell that mixed with Mave's gentle feminine scent.

Most of all, he focused on her. The warmth of her lean body which seemed to fit with his like two puzzle pieces; her hot breath against his neck; the way her long fingers clutched the back of his shirt tightly, as though she'd never let go.

This was a moment he never wanted to forget, the one he would recall with his last, dying breath. This was the moment in which he had found and lost the love of his life and even as Tristan's heart broke, the moment was etched upon each shattered piece.

When the two had finally pulled apart they were soaked to the marrow and a chill had crept into their bodies. Without another word they parted and went their separate ways across the small glade; Tristan to his poor, waterlogged horse, and Mave to the edge of the glade.

Tristan mounted his steed and rode off through the forest while Mave disappeared through the trees like a shadow into darkness. Neither had looked back or spoken a word, it would only have made their goodbye harder to bear.

As Tristan rode back towards the road, all that remained of his humanity was the love and the memory of a young Woad woman, both of which he had locked away with the shards of his broken heart and hidden in the deep, dark recesses of his mind.

Any other trace of Tristan's humanity was left behind in the glade, to disappear like the rainwater.


End file.
